


Lost and Awaiting My Fate

by the_stargazing_dreamer



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Destiny? Maybe. Maybe not., F/M, Fitz has daddy issues, Grant has his own agenda, Grant is a sassy bastard, Hunter is a sassy bastard, Inspired by The Mummy, Let’s go to Maveth, Siblings Lance Hunter & Jemma Simmons, The Malicks are crazy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-13 17:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28782243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_stargazing_dreamer/pseuds/the_stargazing_dreamer
Summary: After Alistair Fitz torpedoes her career, Jemma is in desperate need of a win. Any win would be nice. She finds an opportunity when her brother Lance returns to the Playground with evidence of Maveth, an ancient civilization thought to be a myth by most. Determined to prove its existence, she enlists the help of Grant Ward, who claims to have spent time there. They get more than they bargained for when they accidentally awaken a sinister force hellbent on destruction.
Relationships: Jemma Simmons/Grant Ward
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> After watching The Mummy for the millionth time, I found myself inspired to test AoS characters in their spots and well, it seems to have spiraled. But I’m having fun with it and thought you lovely readers might enjoy. It’s not an exact adaptation but more loosely based, though some plot lines are close and I may directly quote or paraphrase some of my favorite lines from the movie from time to time. I really want this to not be so anti-Fitz, because I do adore him, but I’m just a sucker for Jemma/Grant I guess. I won’t say he’s an antagonist but FitzSimmons is definitely on opposite sides for a good portion of this. 
> 
> The title is a lyric from the song When You’re Not Here, from Michael Buble’s album love. It comes more into play later on.

“Did you see this?”

Jemma startles and nearly falls off the ladder she’s currently perched on. If Daisy notices, she doesn’t react. Instead, her fury is aimed at the glossy magazine cover.

“I prefer not to discuss it.” She replies and focuses on the shelf she’s attempting to organize.

“Jemma! You can’t just sit back and let him take credit for most of your life’s work!”

“It’s his work too Daisy.”

“Bullshit!” She snaps and tosses the magazine onto the nearest shelf, conveniently within Jemma’s line of sight.

She holds back a sigh as she glances over the image- Leopold Fitz against a backdrop of ones and zeros, looking rather dashing in a three piece suit and his hair neatly combed and slicked to the side.

It was painful enough to see _that_ , along with the glaring headline of yet another accolade to his name, but they had to include _her_. Ophelia, draped seductively over an armchair and one hand reaching up to touch his, which rested on her shoulder. His new partner and, if the gossip columns were to be believed, his lover.

Jemma is _not_ jealous. Daisy could scoff and roll her eyes all she wants. She _never_ wanted Fitz that way. No, she’s angry. They had been a team since school and a good one at that. Or so she had thought. Until three years ago, when Alistair Fitz decided his son had made enough of a name for himself and wanted to be a father again. Then Fitz was gone, with most of their research that had yet to be published, and Jemma was tossed aside like she was nothing.

Which she feels is accurate, quite frankly. While Fitz was climbing the ranks in the science community, Jemma was stuck and sinking fast. Anything she came up with was rejected or accused of plagiarism. She had tried to fight once for her work but the elder Fitz was a formidable foe and she was certain he was responsible for her being blacklisted from most organizations.

He was certainly responsible for the destruction of her own copies of their work, which had been destroyed by some horrific computer incident. Daisy had done her best to recover the documents but whoever Alistair had hired was extremely skilled and very little remained of her records.

So, for the time being, she was stuck at the Playground, an independent historical society that had been founded by Daisy’s father and had gained prominence over the years. Since her parents’ untimely deaths, Daisy was placed in charge and was in over her head. While cataloging artifacts was well below Jemma’s pay grade, it was the least she could do to help her best friend while she continued her research on the side. One of these days, she was going to find a breakthrough and that would be it.

She just needed one thing, one thing that Fitz hadn’t beaten her to, and she’d finally break free of these shackles.

“Oh, shit, I have to go.” Daisy groans as her phone buzzes. “Hey, did you find that book I was telling you about?”

“Not yet but I’m sure it’ll turn up.” Jemma replies with a smile. 

“No rush and don’t think this conversation is over!” Daisy says as she jogs out the door.

“Of course not.” Jemma mutters and lays her forehead against the ladder with a sigh. Other than finding a way to beat Fitz, she mostly wished everyone would stop bringing him up and playing the Poor Jemma card.

She grabs the magazine, then climbs off the ladder and sits on one of the lower steps. She’s flipping through the magazine for the cover story when she hears a loud bang from behind her. This is quickly followed by a hard thump and a groan and she freezes where she is.

The storage room at the Playground was massive but she’s quite sure she is the only one in here at the moment.

She stands up and peers around the corner of the shelving unit but doesn’t see anyone. Until she turns and comes face to face with her brother and shrieks.

“Christ, Jemma!” Lance jumps back and jams a finger in his ear. “Bloody hell.”

“What is wrong with you! Why would you sneak up on me like that?” She snaps and whacks him across the chest with the magazine.

“What?”

“Where. Did. You. Come. From.”

Lance blinks, like he doesn’t understand the question, and she groans.

“Are you drunk?”

“No! I’m completely sober! But I think I hit my head when I fell out of the vent.”

“The vent? What are you talking about?”

“Oh, well, when I got here, Talbot was here and he hates my bloody guts and told me I was banned the last time he saw me and I really needed to talk to you. So I climbed into the vent and figured I’d just drop down here.”

“That is the absolute most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. How you’re even still alive after all your horrible shenanigans is beyond me.”

“Me too but you know you’d miss me if I was gone sissy.” He throws an arm around her shoulders and kisses the side of her head. “I have something to show you.”

“No.”

“Jemma, please.”

“No! You’re constantly bringing me things stating they belong in the archives and they never do and I make myself look like a fool to the heads when I bring it to them. It’s bad enough I’m shunned from my preferred field. I need to hold onto whatever I can get at this point.”

“This is different. It’s weird and it’s right up your alley.”

“Like I haven’t heard that before.” She rolls her eyes. He grins and grabs the ladder, then carries it back to the vent he had fallen out of. “Oh God, you weren’t joking?”

“Why would I be joking?” His face scrunches up as he climbs the ladder. There’s still a considerable gap but he hoists himself up into the hole. “Here, come grab this. Carefully.”

She sighs and climbs up the ladder to reach the black bag he holds out. She takes it by the straps and weighs it. Approximately five pounds perhaps. Maybe a bit more. 

Once she’s back on the floor and he’s swung out back onto the ladder, she unzips the bag and frowns.

It contains two items. The first is a rather thick, glass enclosure with some sort of gray liquid that seems to be cement. The second is no bigger than a jewelry box, layered with rubies and gold, with an intricate M carved into the top. As she reaches for the box, the liquid in the glass case suddenly turns into a solid, brick sized stone.

“What the hell?”

“I know right?”

She sits down next to the bag, dumbfounded, and Lance sits next to her with an eager grin on his face. She carefully takes the glass case out and sets it on the floor.

“What is it?”

“I have no idea.”

“Where did you find it?”

“A raid. Classified. You know how it is.”

She gives him a look and he holds up his hands.

“Scout’s honor.”

“You were never a scout.” She argues but her attention is on the case, waiting to see if it turns to liquid again. For the time being, it’s solid. She examines the case but there’s no opening and it seems to be rather enforced. Bulletproof possibly. She turns her attention instead on the golden box and turns it over in her hands.

Her nail catches on a divot and the top pops up slightly. She lifts the lid to find a yellowed paper on the inside. She unfolds the paper and frowns.

“What is it?”

“Some sort of map. I don’t… wait,” she frowns deeper and tilts the paper towards the light. “Oh.”

“What?” Lance urges her.

“This symbol here- where did you find this?”

“I told you, a classified raid.”

* * *

“If my understanding is correct, which I believe it to be, then this map would point us directly to Maveth. The number of valuables that we could locate and add to the archives would be astounding. Plus, if the legends are true, this could be another planet altogether, not just some hidden location here on Earth.”

“Sounds like a bunch of fairy tale crap to me.” Talbot mutters. “And Hunter, how the hell did you get in here? I thought I banned you from here!”

“With all due respect sir, this area is my responsibility.” Daisy states firmly. “And Hunter is a… well… he’s part of my team.”

“Regardless of that, imagine what we could do if we found a habitable planet with a direct access from here.” Jemma interjects. “The possibility of studying other life forms and organic compositions-”

“Simmons, I’m gonna stop you before you even get started.” Talbot throws a hand up and looks exasperated, as he always did with her. “Under no circumstances am I going to authorize some urban legend excursion using company time and funds!”

“Even if it was a groundbreaking achievement that would only be associated with you?”

“The last thing I need is my name associated with a hunt for buried treasure and aliens! I’m serious Simmons. Leave it alone.”

“As much as you’d like to believe it is, this is hardly a dictatorship.” She shoots back. “And Daisy is in charge here, plus the board, and-”

“And they all stand beside me. It’s not a dictatorship but it is majority rule. When was the last time they ever approved one of your projects?” He counters. “You’re lucky we even allow you to be here, given your history.”

“That’s not fair.” Daisy argues, glaring when Talbot rounds on her. “Just because those assholes have donated to your political campaigns doesn’t mean you have to believe all their garbage.”

“I’ve told you time and time again that these two hooligans are your responsibility. Hunter is constantly being busted for one thing or another. Simmons has practically blown this building to bits with her ridiculous experiments. This is business Coulson not a charity for wayward friends. I’d say your father would be angry but he was as big a buffoon as you are when it comes to leading. How this place is still standing is beyond me.”

He shakes his head and grabs the map Jemma had been showing. Before she can protest, he crumples it up and shoves it in the inner pocket of his jacket.

“Tag the rest and archive it. I don’t want to hear another word about this. Get back to work.” He orders, then storms from the office.

“What a fucking dick.” Daisy growls. “I’m so sick of everyone coming in here, acting like they own the place, and overruling my decisions.”

“You don’t have the best track record.” Lance mutters from behind a flask.

“I am the only reason you’re still here. You wanna fight me?” She raises an eyebrow at him. He shrugs and slumps further into the couch.

“I can’t believe he just took the map!” Jemma looks angrier than Daisy has seen in a while. “That was the key piece in all of this!”

“I’m sorry Jemma.”

“It’s not your fault.” She drops into a chair and places her head in her hands. “I just got so… inspired when I saw it. There’s so much we could learn and the artifacts could be valuable to the Playground. We could examine those items to build up our own systems and studies. And if it’s true about another planet, that could open the door to others. Maybe he’s right. There’s never been any solid proof that it even exists. I just wanted one thing over Fitz.”

“He’s wrong.” Daisy says. She crouches down in front of Jemma and rests her hands on her knees. “If there’s anyone that can find this place, it’s you. And you’re right. The possibilities are endless. And Leo fucking Fitz never found another planet before. So we’re going to make sure that you hit that milestone before him.”

“How? Talbot took the info and he said I’m not allowed.”

“You’re not _officially_ allowed. But weren’t you telling me that your dad’s been sick for a while and wanted to see him?” She tips her head with a devious grin.

“And I may have an idea where we can get more info.” Lance adds.

“I thought it was a classified raid?” Jemma raises her eyebrows at him. He simply smiles innocently in response.


	2. Chapter 2

“You said it was a classified raid!”

“I lied.”

“You’re always lying to me!”

“Well, maybe you should wise up.”

“This place is disgusting!” Jemma hisses as she jumps over a rather dark stain in the tiled floor.

“Yes, well not every prison can have the accommodations that the US has.” Lance retorts. He glares at a prisoner in one cell who catcalls at Jemma. He tugs her close and keeps his arm over her shoulder.

“Why do you have to engage with unsavory characters? Why can’t you just appreciate the job that I found you and stick with it?”

“And live a dull and boring life? I couldn’t survive sissy.”

“You’re not going to survive if you keep this up!”

The guard they are following gives a sharp whistle and jerks his head towards a cell in the far corner of the room. Jemma can hardly see the person inside, due to them being scrunched up against the wall in the shadows, but she cringes nonetheless.

He speaks to the prisoner briefly. She’s not sure what he says and she’s pretty sure her brother doesn’t either. How he ever wound up in the middle of Russia, she’ll never know. He was unlikely to give her the truth anyways and she doubts his _friend_ would either.

The prisoner gives a low, dry snort and moves forward into the light. He scowls at them from under scraggly dark hair that hangs in his eyes. A thick beard covers the bottom half of his face. The uniform they have given him doesn’t fit very well. It’s snug. Extremely snug. Her eyes wander before she can catch herself. A well defined muscular system did not excuse his dirty, haggard appearance or his criminal behavior. She assumes he’s a criminal. Why else would he be in prison?

She elbows Lance roughly in the ribs and he grimaces as he looks around the cells. Clearly, he is trying to avoid speaking with this man.

“You are absolutely useless.” She mutters and steps forward. “Hello. Um, do you speak English?”

He tilts his head as he examines her and she gets the feeling he is about to try and pull one over on her.

“Yes, well, I guess you do, seeing as my brother can barely speak English properly, let alone Russian. Or anything else for that matter.”

“And who the hell are you exactly?”

“Oh. Well, that’s not exactly important.”

“Then why should I care what you want?”

“Well, we happened to find your… belongings.” She says slowly. His eyes narrow even further and roam towards Lance, who is now whistling quietly.

“What sort of belongings?”

“Um… the boxes.” She glances at the guards, unsure of what they can hear, understand, or even know.

The legend of Maveth was relatively well known, though it wasn’t spouted as much as it once was.

His eyes slide from her back to Lance and his frown deepens even further.

“You’re that asshole from the casino.” He says suddenly. “You fucking stole from me.”

“What?” Jemma’s head snaps sharply to the side but her brother cringes and shakes his head.

“No, no. It was a misunderstanding. Bags looked very similar and all that.” He gestures vaguely with his hands and smiles. “It was an accident.”

Hardly, Jemma supposes, but that would get them nowhere.

“You must forgive my brother. I simply-”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I said no. I don’t have to fucking do anything.”

“Ooh,” she glares at him and he glares right back, “look, I would just like to know where you found those items.”

“No you don’t.”

“Of course I do! What purpose would I have for lying to you?”

“Because you want to go to Maveth.”

“You know about…”

“Well, yeah, that’s where I was when I found the box.” He rolls his eyes at her. His attention turns to the guard, who has started to approach the cell again. “Look, little bit of advice? Stay the hell away from there.”

“What do you mean that’s where you were? Oh, excuse me!” She exclaims as the guard pushes her roughly away. She falls into Lance, who steadies her. The guard uses what looks like a cattle prod on the prisoner, who falls to the ground. “What is going on?”

A second guard approaches, holding a thick pair of shackles.

“I don’t know.” Lance shakes his head as the first guard opens the cell. The second steps in and handcuffs the man before he can begin to move again. Together, they start to drag him down the hall.

“They will torture him for information.” Another prisoner calls in broken English.

Jemma looks at Lance again and he holds his hands up.

“What do you want me to do about it?”

“We need him! He was there.”

“Or it’s a bunch of bullshit.”

“You dragged me all the way out here, insisting he could help!” She hisses. When he hesitates, she groans and turns quickly to run after the guards. “Excuse me!”

* * *

“Over here!” Jemma waves a hand when she sees the man exit the prison. He groans and makes no attempt to join her and Lance.

“Oh, fuck, what do you want?”

“Excuse me, I just saved your life. You could be a bit nicer.” Jemma crosses her arms as he rolls his eyes.

“You saved my life? I had an escape plan.” He retorts.

“Really? Because it seemed to me like you were pretty close to dying.” She replies. “Now, I spent quite a lot of money to get you out of there. The least you can do is answer my questions.”

“Telling you to stay away wasn’t enough?”

“No, it just makes me even more intrigued. The one box contained paperwork that seemed to lead to the access point and beyond. Someone has confiscated that document.”

“I’m sure they did it for a good reason. Look, Miss-”

“Doctor. Dr. Simmons. And they didn’t. It was only for their own benefit of controlling yet another piece of my life. I would just like to hear what you have to say. As you saw, I was able to pay a large sum of money to assist you earlier. There’s more where that came from, if you need a bit of motivation.”

“Are you bribing me Dr. Simmons?”

“Merely incentivizing you Mister…”

“Ward. Grant Ward.”

“Mr. Ward. I assume you’re an American and you’re quite a ways away from home. With… minimal resources.”

“What makes you say that?” He raises an eyebrow at her and she scoffs in response.

“Jemma, maybe we shouldn’t be doing this out in the street in front of the police.” Lance mutters. Grant looks over both of them but his eyes linger on Jemma and her determined gaze.

“I think you’re crazy.” He says.

“You wouldn’t be the first. I have no problem rewarding you for your efforts. The more you give, the more you’ll get. Though, keep in mind, you do owe me for your life.”

“Tit for tat.”

“In a manner of speaking.”

He clicks his tongue and glances off to the side, clearly considering his options. Though the siblings don’t know it, he was basically stranded with minimal resources. He couldn’t fault her for hitting the nail on the head.

“I want the boxes back.” He says, forcing Lance to let out a pained noise. “I’m sorry, you fucking stole them from me!”

“And I suppose you did as well.” Jemma interjects. “The emblem on the gold case- that was the Malick symbol.”

“You know your treasure.”

“I know my history and I would think a Malick would know how to keep himself out of trouble. Clearly not a family heirloom. I know the Malicks are quite particular about their belongings. If money doesn’t interest you, perhaps your survival will.”

There’s a flash of something in his eyes, though Jemma’s not sure what.

“What do you want?”

“Whatever you can give me.”

“Well, if you’re that stupid, I won’t stop you. I have some requirements.”

“This is not a blank check, Mr. Ward.”

“Isn’t it? How important is this to you?” He cocks his head to the side, challenging her, and she steels herself. She’s dealt with plenty of obnoxious men before. She wasn’t going to let him take charge here.

“How important are your demands for you?” She counters. She pulls an envelope from her coat pocket and extends it to him. “If they are, meet us at the location listed tomorrow morning at 9 AM. There’s also enough money in there to gain a hotel room for the night. Try and clean yourself up as well. If not, well, then best of luck to you Mr. Ward.”

“Wait! The boxes!” He calls as she turns to begin walking away. Lance pauses as well, waiting to see what she does.

“I guess you’ll just have to decide if it’s important enough.” She shrugs and continues down the sidewalk.

* * *

“You’re certainly trusting of him.” Lance mutters. Jemma scoffs and yanks the flask out of his hand before he can drink from it.

“I am not. Why are you drinking this early in the morning?”

“Five o’clock somewhere and you are trusting him. Gave him our location, our money, and you think he’s not going to turn us over to the authorities?”

“If he does, he’ll need to explain his role in the whole thing and he’s looking to avoid that. He’s hiding something.”

“You got all that from arguing with the man for ten minutes?”

“Please. He wasn’t that hard to peg. He’s rude, foul, and an idiot. Trying to act all smug and mighty. He would have been killed without us. He didn’t even say thank you.”

“Thank you.”

She jumps at the voice behind them and swerves to find Grant standing close by.

“Oh, um, well, yes, you’re welcome.” She stammers as her eyes wander over him. He certainly had cleaned up. His hair was cut, short to his scalp but she imagines someone could still run their hands through it if they wished to, and his beard is gone in exchange for stubble that covers his rather strong jaw. He raises an eyebrow at her and she notices he has wounds, most likely from the prison guards beating him the night before. A split lip, bruising around his eye, and a nasty cut near his eyebrow. “Well, you… certainly look refreshed.”

“How do we know we can trust you?” Lance asks quickly. He positions himself in front of Jemma, who rolls her eyes, but he remains planted. Grant simply raises an eyebrow at him.

“Well, out of the three of us, I’m the only one who hasn’t bribed or robbed anyone.” He replies. Jemma blushes and clears her throat as the train whistle blows. “Besides, I thought it over, and your sister is right. My plan clearly hadn’t gone as expected and I owe her a debt for saving my life. Once that’s done, then I’ll be on my merry way and none of us will have to worry about the others again. We should get on board.”

He grabs Jemma’s bag without a word and storms towards the entrance for one of the compartments.

“I notice he didn’t take my bag.” Lance comments, causing his sister to smack him roughly on the arm.


	3. Chapter 3

“I think the best thing would be to head to the Sheffield house. With Mum and Dad on vacation, we won’t need to worry about anyone interrupting us. It’ll give us time to put together our next steps.”

“Until the neighbors see us.”

Jemma sighs and sets her cup down on the table. It wobbles as the train continues to whip through the countryside. The dining car isn’t extremely busy at the moment. A few other tables are occupied but everyone is minding their own business. From what she’s seen, not many people got on at their station and with it being between meals, the other passengers seemed to have gone elsewhere in the train.

“What would you recommend? We barely have any equipment. I’m not even sure what we’ll need.”

“Well, if our new friend ever decides to join us, maybe we’ll find out.” Lance retorts with an eye roll.

“Perhaps he’s avoiding us due to your poor treatment of him.”

“It was a misunderstanding! And really Jem, the man’s a con artist. I’m sure he’s not sitting somewhere with his feelings all hurt.”

“You stole from him!”

“And he stole from other people! Not to mention me. He was counting bloody cards and cleaned me out. He was practically asking for it when he flashed that gold box.” He mutters and takes a large bite out of his pancakes. “Don’t know why you’re getting so defensive over him. Actually, I do.”

“You don’t know anything!”

“Oh, my sweet baby sister, I know plenty. What was it this time? The strong jawline? The rippling muscles?” He ducks as she flings a biscuit at him. “Have to give you some credit. At least he doesn’t have a hog face like Daniels did.”

“Will was very respectable.”

“So respectable that you practically dried up and turned into a husk of yourself.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“I’m just making an observation.”

“I didn’t ask for your observations. Back to the topic at hand.” She shuffles the index cards she had made up, then smacks the stack onto the table. “For the record, I am merely being polite to possibly the only key to my success. If I left it up to you, he’d be in Siberia by now. And also, I appreciate men with a strong intellect. I give no credence to physical looks.”

“You’re right. I’m sorry. I should not have implied you’re shallow. It’s disrespectful to Dr. Callahan’s memory.” He replies and takes a sip of his bourbon. She glares at him and slaps her cards onto the table again.

“Richard is very much alive and is a good friend.”

“Such a good friend that you refuse his help because it’ll be suspected that you slept your way to whichever position he gives you.”

“Just so you know, I’m strongly considering kicking you off at the next stop and calling Bobbi for help.”

“Well, invoking the hell beast is just begging for trouble. And rude, might I add.” He shakes his head, then scoffs at the thought of his wife. Ex-wife. If he ever got around to signing his divorce papers. Which he would. Very soon.

“Now, from what I recall, the map seemed to be more for what came after the access point. I tried doing some research on the Malicks but all that was said was the usual rags to riches garbage that could be found in a biography. What I want to find out is how this box of theirs apparently showed up there. How old is it? Are they able to somehow visit there? Was it a fluke?” She flips through a notebook, then glances up as movement catches her eye.

Grant scans the dining car as he enters. He looks casual but Jemma notices the calculating gaze in his eyes, like he’s analyzing each person. She wonders if he’s ex-military or something like that.

He lands on her last and holds her attention until she clears her throat and looks back to her notes. It looks like gibberish at the moment.

She sighs and closes her eyes briefly. She was not going to get sucked into her brother’s teasing or Grant Ward’s perfectly formed body. She was here to do a job and she was not going to be distracted by anything.

_But that maroon sweater… and those tight jeans…_

“Guess you started on breakfast without me?”

_If only he could keep his mouth shut._

She smiles and tilts her head up to meet his gaze again. He’s staring down at her with a raised eyebrow.

“We did try to wait for you however it got to a point where Lance was ready to eat his own arm. How are your quarters?”

“I’ve seen worse.”

“Ah, well, you’re welcome.” She stiffen as he sits in the chair next to her and leans close to glance over her notes. She clears her throat and moves her chair slightly towards the window. 

“Hate to put all this research in the trash but you’re going in the wrong direction.” Grant comments.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Your research. It’s wrong.” He says, causing her to scoff in disbelief. She glances at her brother, who holds his hands up to stay out of it.

“Mr. Ward, I know we just met but a little word of advice. My IQ is higher than most, by a considerable amount, and I had two PhDs by the time I was sixteen. I excel in preparation. I assure you that everything I’ve found has been backed up by evidence.”

“What’s your most recent source?”

“Well, it’s slightly dated but I don’t have access to current records all the way out here. Once we’re in a more populated area, I’ll be able to find more.”

“What year Doc?”

“Roughly 1903.”

“I’m curious as to what it mentions. Surely you’ve come across the information that states no person has ever returned from there so how could there be records?”

“If that’s the case, I suppose your story is a lie.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You’re the only one in centuries whose managed to make it back?” She arches an eyebrow at him and he smirks in return. “How fortunate am I to have stumbled across you?”

“Extremely. I’m a survivor Dr. Simmons. You want to go grave dig, be my guest but you won’t get there following that.” He replies. He takes her toast off her plate and bites into it as he sits back and throws an arm across the back of her chair. She stares across the table to Lance, who looks as though he’s desperately trying to not smirk.

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” She forces her chair back, knocking his arm off. She makes sure to ram her hip into his very muscular arm as she squeezes by him to leave the table. She feels a flair of annoyance that it probably hurt her more than it did him.

“Was it something I said?” He calls after her but she ignores him as she leaves the car. He shakes his head and takes a drink from her tea cup and grimaces. “Is your sister always so…”

“Yes.” Lance nods in mutual understanding. “Very.”

“Women.”

“Amen to that brother. She’ll call you a misogynist though.” He shrugs. Grant’s face twitches with a smirk as he stares at the door Jemma had disappeared out of.

“How’d she know to buy me a ticket?”

“You’ll find that Jemma is hopeful and places a lot of faith in people. She gives them more chances than they deserve.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Definitely.”

“So she’s naïve. That’s going to go really fucking well.”

“Not quite. If you refused to join us, she planned on abducting you but wanted to make it look as legitimate as possible.”

This seems to amuse Grant, as his eyes widen just slightly. He lets out a quiet laugh and shakes his head. He looks around the car again and his laughter fades.

“Excuse me for a minute.” He stands up quickly, then follows Jemma’s path. He catches up to her fairly quickly. She’s about to enter her room but she’s fumbling with the lock and muttering to herself. “Hey,”

“Oh, bloody hell!” She snaps when she sees him approaching. “Walking away from you wasn’t enough of a sign that I didn’t want to speak with you?”

“You really take criticism poorly.”

“That wasn’t criticism! I take criticism just fine! Perhaps if every man in my life didn’t talk down to me like I’m some dim witted child, I wouldn’t behave in such a way!”

“Yeah, misogynist. I get it. Maybe I came off a bit rough.”

“You could definitely work on your soft skills Mr. Ward.”

“Trust me, I have plenty of soft skills.” He murmurs. “Let me help you with that.”

“I don’t need your help. I am perfectly capable of opening a door on my own without your chauvinist self coming along!”

“I prefer chivalrous.” He glances down the hall and quickly turns her so she has her back against the door.

“What are you-mm!” She falls silent when he leans down and kisses her. She’s completely frozen as he presses against her. She’s vaguely aware of footsteps approaching them but he just deepens the kiss and covers her more with his body.

One hand is pressed against the door, next to her head, and the other is at her hip. His thumb slips under her sweater and caresses the skin it finds.

She’s not sure what’s happening and she should certainly stop this but good lord the man could kiss. She doesn’t even remember the last time she was kissed, let alone kissed like this.

Her body seems to move on its own. Mouth opening under his, accepting his tongue in. Arms around his neck, fingers buried in thick, soft hair at the back of his head. That was just unfair. She knew people who would kill to have his hair.

He finally pulls his mouth away but leans his forehead against hers. She’s breathing heavily as he lowers his arm and she hears the key jangle, then the door opens behind her.

“You need to lift the knob up. It doesn’t sit right in the lock.” He mutters. Then he lets go of her and proceeds down the hall. She backs into her room and shuts the door, completely stunned. It isn’t until a few minutes later that she realizes he walked in the wrong direction when he left.


	4. Chapter 4

“ _Jemma?_ ”

She jerks violently, nearly knocking over her laptop, when she hears Daisy’s voice. She looks at the screen. There still isn’t a picture but the little call icon is active. With the train out in the country, there was terrible reception. Daisy, in her infinite tech wisdom, had outfitted Jemma’s laptop with a hot spot but it didn’t seem to be doing the full job. It had taken forever for the call to connect.

“Oh, Daisy, thank God. Can you hear me?”

“ _You’re glitchy but yeah, for the most part. How is it going?_ ”

“Dreadful.” She quickly fills her friend in on their lack of progress and acquiring Grant. “So now we’re on this train heading back to the city but right now it’s practically in the middle of nowhere. And…”

“ _And? I can’t see your face but I know you’re hedging about something._ ”

“I need you to pull any information you can find about Maveth and the Malicks. Not necessarily in the same source, just anything. I thought that I had deciphered where the access point was but Ward states that I am wrong.” She can’t keep the bitterness out of her voice, though it quickly dissipates when she thinks of the kiss.

“ _Did I lose you?_ ”

“What? Oh, no, I’m here. I’m just…” She trails off and touches her mouth gently. She could blame it on a poor connection but Daisy has been her best friend for years and was fairly adept at knowing when she was trying to hide something. Honestly, anyone would know if she was trying to hide something. She was a horrible liar. “I’m not sure I like him very much.”

“ _Because he told you you were wrong?_ ” There is amusement in Daisy’s voice. “ _Also, correct me if I’m wrong but didn’t you go to find him for what info he could give you? If he knows better..._ ”

“Yes! No. No. I’m not like that. He’s smug and abrasive and quite frankly, I don’t know why I’m putting up with him. Every interaction I’ve had with him has ended… well, I just hope it’s worth it.”

“ _Is he cute?_ ”

“Oh, Daisy! That has nothing to do with anything.”

“ _Sure it does. Please indulge me. You’re off on some treasure hunt with a scoundrel. It’s like the basis of every adventure/romance. What’s he look like? Describe him for me._ ”

“He’s hideous.”

“ _I’ll be the judge of that. How tall is he?_ ”

“I…” she groans and puts her head in her hands. All she can picture is the way he towered over her at the door. And the way he smoldered at her. “Tall. I’m not sure. Maybe 6’2”, 6’3”. He’s massive compared to me.”

“ _Body type?_ ”

“Athletic. He keeps himself in shape.”

“ _Hmm. And hair, eyes, the rest, come on. Don’t make me pry it out of you._ ”

“He was extremely scraggly when we saw him in prison. I don’t know what he’s been up to. I feel like he’s hiding things.”

“ _He can be a mystery man. Has he cleaned up since the prison?_ ”

“… significantly.”

“ _I knew it!_ ”

“No! Anything would have been an improvement. He’s an average man. He has this dark brown hair that he cut so it’s a normal length and it’s very soft. Then he has brown eyes that usually look like he’s planning to murder someone. Decent lips but he’s either scowling or smirking. One thing I will give him is he has an amazing jawline and he keeps his stubble at the perfect length.” She ends with a sigh and rubs her cheek, recalling how said stubble had felt against it.

“ _Jemma?_ ”

“Yes?”

“ _How do you know what his hair feels like?_ ”

“What?”

“ _You said it’s very soft._ ”

“I mean, I imagine it is, just by looking at it.”

“ _Jemma?_ ”

“Would you believe me if I said I fought him and yanked him around by the head?”

“ _Definitely not!_ ” Daisy bursts out with a laugh. “ _Come on, spill._ ”

“Ugh, fine, you’ll get it out of me sooner or later. He kissed me.”

“ _I knew it! You got this whole Han Solo/Princess Leia vibe going on. So the tension is already that much?_ ”

“No! There’s no tension! He thinks I’m some haughty bitch and he has no redeeming qualities whatsoever. I don’t even know why he kissed me!”

“ _Because he likes you! What was it like?_ ”

“It wasn’t the worst kiss I’ve ever had.”

“ _But a decent one? Top ten? Top five?_ ” Daisy prods and Jemma squirms, even though she can’t see her. “ _The best?_ ”

“No! It was ridiculous. One minute I’m arguing with him over how to open a door and the next he has me practically pinned to it. He basically manhandled me and there was somebody coming too! They must have thought we were heathens.”

“ _So you weren’t being respectable._ ”

“It wasn’t an appropriate kiss for being where people could see.”

“ _Oh my God. Okay, who cares if he’s a dick? Have some angry sex and get the blood flowing. It’ll boost your brain and you’ll figure all this Maveth stuff out._ ”

“Why am I friends with you?”

“ _You love me. Seriously, did you enjoy it?_ ”

“I… no.”

“ _Okay, let me put it this way. If he was a respectable person and you weren’t letting your stupid brain and logic get in the way?_ ”

“He’d be extremely talented.” She mutters, causing her best friend to shriek. “Stop! I’m just being some pathetic woman. Even I can admit that it’s been a long time.”

“ _Don’t you dare waste another second._ ” Daisy orders, making Jemma roll her eyes. Before she can respond, there is a loud banging on her door that makes her jump. “ _What is that?_ ”

“I have no idea.”

“Jemma!” Her name is accompanied by the banging and not even a moment later, she hears a crack and the door flings open with a bloodied Grant flying into her compartment.

“Did you just break my lock?” She jumps off the bed and looks at the door in disbelief, then actually looks at him. “What the hell happened to your face!”

“ _Jemma? What’s going on?_ ” Daisy calls. “ _Are you okay?_ ”

“I’m fine. I need to go. I’ll call you later.” She quickly says and ends the call. Grant slams the lid of the laptop down and jams the device into a bag. “What are you doing!”

“We need to go.”

“Go? What are you talking about? We’re on a moving train!”

“Yeah and there are people also on this moving train who would like to detain us for questioning.”

“What are you talking about?”

* * *

Unbeknownst to the siblings, Grant had recognized one of the other passengers in the dining car. He hadn’t noticed him initially, but after Jemma stormed out, it clicked. It was why he excused himself so quickly to go after her.

Grant was mentally kicking himself as he moved back down the train. He should have noticed Andrews immediately. It wasn’t like he was trying all that hard to blend in. But he saw the way he looked at Jemma as she left.

She might’ve been a pain in the ass but she had saved his neck. The least he could do was make sure Andrews left her alone. There was no reason for him to go around the siblings when it was Grant whom he was after.

He had known this would happen. Eventually, he’d wind up on someone’s radar and they’d be more than happy to drag him back. Well, Grant had no intention of going back. At least not the way they intended.

Kissing Jemma had not been in the plan. He had hoped to get her locked safely in her cabin but she had to be so damn stubborn and argumentative. Protecting her from Andrews’s view was paramount when Grant spotted him coming down the hall.

From what he knew of the woman so far, he fully expected her to slap him.

Kissing him back?

It’s not something he could consider as Andrews strolled by, no doubt uncomfortable by the handsy couple making out in the hall.

Once he was a decent distance past them, Grant let her go. Almost. He judged the rough estimate of how far down he had gone and prepared to follow him into that cabin.

He couldn’t think about that odd feeling in his stomach or why he kept his forehead against hers. Or how she felt in his arms or the fact that she had continued to kiss him back.

It would distract him and he did not get distracted.

Unlike Andrews, he’s not sloppy. The dumb fuck smeared grape jelly on the doorknob, making it easy to figure out which cabin he had entered.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise.” He comments dryly as he enters the cabin. “How’ve you been Andrews?”

“Been better. Fucking cold out here. I’ll be doing pretty good when I haul your ass back to England.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Nice little bounty on your head. I’ll be happy to claim that.”

“Lucky break.”

“Yeah. Some people are very interested to talk to you.”

“I bet.”

“They don’t know about your lady friend yet but I’m thinking I can keep her to myself.” Andrews shrugs with a nasty grin.

“You’re going to keep your damn hands to yourself.” Grant growls back. He’s not going to think of that flair of jealously and anger that he suddenly feels.

“What are you going to do about it?” He pulls a syringe out from his pocket and pops the cap off. Grant has no doubt it’s some sort of sedative. If they wanted to _talk_ , the requirement was to bring him in alive.

He scans the compartment quickly. It’s small, not even enough space to turn around between the seat and the bed. Andrews wasn’t the best at hand to hand combat but he was also more brawn than brains. He gets in a few good punches but ultimately, Grant is able to knock the syringe out of his hand and get him in a headlock.

Andrews struggles in his grasp as he loses oxygen. It’s not his preferred method but it’s the neatest and quietest. The train was old school, no tech or security. It would be a while before they determined they had a dead body on board. They would be long gone before anyone started to investigate.

Grant dumps Andrews’s body on the bed and wipes the compartment down, ridding the room of any evidence that he’d been there. Then he goes to collect Jemma, knowing if Andrews was on board, others would quickly follow if they weren’t already.

* * *

“What the bloody hell happened in here?”

Grant whips around when he hears Lance approach the cabin.

“Ask Rambo!” Jemma snaps. Her ire suddenly turns to suspicion as she looks over her brother. “Why do you have my binder?”

“Well I wasn’t going to leave it all out on the table and you never came back. I think the proper term is thank you.”

She yanks it out of his hand and scans through it quickly. From what Grant can see, it contains the notebook and index cards she had been looking over earlier.

“Lance! You didn’t even try keeping my system! You’ve ruined days of organization!”

“It doesn’t matter!” Grant hisses as he grabs the binder from Jemma. He throws it in the bag with her laptop and turns on the siblings. “What part of there are people who are very interested to speak with you don’t you get?”

“Us?” Lance frowns and rubs his head. “Who would want to speak with us all the way out here?”

“I don’t understand why.” Jemma adds.

“Maybe because you two idiots couldn’t keep your heads down and your mouths shut! You’re messing in something that you shouldn’t be and it’s getting attention from others!” Grant snaps. He knows that’s not fair, or even accurate, but it seems to mollify the siblings for the time being. “We are ten minutes from the next station. When the train stops, we’re getting off. You follow my lead and don’t say a fucking word.”

“We paid to the end of the rail!”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna need to find alternate transportation. Are you done arguing?”

“I don’t know who you think you are Ward but you’re not in charge around here! You can’t just storm around and throw my belongings in bags and demand things from me.” Jemma argues.

“If I didn’t take action, you’d both find yourself in jail or worse. You’ve got eight minutes to decide if you want to face that or get the hell out of here.”

“Lance! Would you tell him he’s completely out of his mind?”

“Maybe we should listen to the man Jem.”

The siblings glare at each other. Grant doesn’t know much about Lance’s history but he vaguely recalls him mentioning some mercenary background when they had been in the casino together. Maybe he’d manage okay but he had no idea what the hell they were going to be dealing with. He also has no doubt that his sister’s safety was his biggest concern.

“Six minutes.”

Jemma scowls and huffs but doesn’t argue any further.

“When we are out of whatever mess this is, you’re going to give me some answers.” She states sternly. “And I’m not just going to roll over and accept your alpha male demeanor! You will speak to me like an equal and won’t manhandle me and-”

“Fine!”

“Fine! Wait, you said fine?”

”Yeah, now let’s move before I change my fucking mind.”

”Fine.”


	5. Chapter 5

After following Grant’s order to keep their heads down and shut up, they exited the train station with little fanfare.

Jemma’s not sure what exactly is going on. Or why Grant is holding her so close to his side. She attempted twice to pull away but he only tightened his grip on her. Lance seems to pick up on whatever is happening and pulls a baseball cap low over his forehead.

The train has let them off in yet another small town. Grant glances back periodically before dragging them into what looks like a small bed & breakfast.

An older woman sits at the desk and smiles kindly as Grant speaks fluent Russian. Jemma looks up at him in surprise and feels his hand tighten on her hip. He tips his head towards her and says something else, which makes the woman laugh. She turns to the other side of the counter and begins writing in a dusty ledger.

“What did you say?” She murmurs quietly.

“Getting us a room.”

“I gathered that much. What did you say about me?”

The older woman glances up and smiles at them again. Grant plasters on a charming smile, then turns them towards each other. He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, and presses his mouth to her ear.

There’s no chance at hiding her shiver and she had the feeling he’s going to bring this up later.

“Said I had a surprise set up for you and it was a good thing she doesn’t speak English and you don’t speak Russian.”

The woman returns to the desk with two keys and places them on the counter. Grant smiles again, still clutching Jemma close, and digs his wallet out of his back pocket. She turns her head away from the transaction, wondering where the hell he could have gotten that sort of cash from, and stares her brother down. He gives her a small shrug.

Grant thanks the woman - Jemma knows that much at least - and they move towards a rickety staircase off the side of the lobby.

“Don’t say a word until we’re in the room.” He snaps when he sees Jemma start to speak. She glowers at him but does as she’s told. They enter the room and she spins around to begin arguing with him but sees the cuts on his forehead and cheek have reopened.

“You should get that taken care of.” She says quietly, gesturing towards his face.

“I’m fine.” He insists, even as he wipes blood away from his face.

“Oh, just sit down! Was she the least bit concerned that you were bleeding and injured?”

“I told her I tripped on the train platform.” He frowns as she tugs on his sleeve. Then he sighs and follows her to the bed and sits. She spends a moment digging through her bag before she pulls out a first aid kit. “Were you a Girl Scout?”

“No, but living with my brother has taught me to be prepared for anything.” She replies. Lance lets out a snort as he sits in the chair by the window. “Now, if you’d be so kind as to explain why we’re sneaking around like criminals, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“He is a criminal.” Grant points out, causing Lance to shoot him an offended look. “You stole from me.”

“And I thought we determined you had stolen as well.” Jemma counters. “We don’t know anyone in this area of the world and as far as anyone is concerned, we are taking personal time to visit our family. So how could those mystery people you made us run from know anything about what we are doing?”

“Unless it was you they were following.” Lance comments. Grant flinches as Jemma wipes an alcohol swab over his cheek.

“Sure, because that makes a lot more sense.”

“Why were you arrested?” Jemma asks.

“A misunderstanding.”

“This is going nowhere.” Lance mutters. He walks into the attached bathroom, then locks the door. Jemma is quiet as she continues to patch Grant up.

“Um,” she clears her throat and his eyes find hers, “is this… is this going to be a thing?”

“What?”

“You… and I… with your…” She inhales a deep breath. “This whole ploy you’re using to make us seem like a couple. I just don’t understand why you kissed me on the train and then your actions in the lobby. I don’t mind, I mean I _do_ mind, but if I’m aware of it and know it’s happening, I can better prepare.”

“You need to prepare for being kissed?”

“I’m not some secret agent. Stealth and lying are not exactly my forte.”

“I’ve noticed.”

“And I’m sure others have too. I don’t mean to seem uncomfortable but I’m caught off guard when you randomly grab me. If there’s some reason we need to play these games, then fine, but at least give me a heads up.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’re being too agreeable.”

“No, you’re right. I didn’t intend to kiss you on the train but you were so obstinate and I was trying to keep you from being detected by the person following you. But I should have given you a heads up before we came in here. I’m used to working alone. If I need to come up with a story quickly, I can do it. I’m sorry.”

“So are you some secret agent?”

“No.”

“That’s usually what a secret agent would say.” She narrows her eyes at him and he chuckles.

“I just have a special skill set. Like your brother.”

“Fair enough.” She decides to back off the topic, knowing Lance had plenty of skills, secrets, and contacts from his military and mercenary days.

“What do you do?”

“I’m a biologist. Or was. I haven’t had much luck recently. I work for a historical society as a curator. To help my friend out. Though I’m not sure who is helping who these days.” She shrugs and closes the first aid kit. “No one is really interested in what I have to show lately. I’m not excusing my brother’s actions but him bringing those boxes to me was the first actual spark of hope that I had in a while. It’s one thing I know I have over… over… a former colleague. Everything else has been deleted or hacked or…”

Jemma trails off slowly and she frowns, glancing off towards the bag her laptop is stored in.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Damn, they always do this!”

“Who?”

“The former colleague. No matter what I do he always seems to be a few steps a head of me. His father has resources. I’ve felt in the past that they’ve been monitoring my research. This just proves it.”

“How so?”

“They must know that I have it, that I’ve been researching it, and sent that person to find me. To take the items so that Fitz can make the discovery first.” She sighs and stands up, shaking her head. Grant remains silent on the bed but watches her with a careful expression. “We have to move faster. If we get there first, without any chance of him following, then it will be okay.”

“What are you hoping to find over there? Because there’s not much there except sand and blood.”

“I highly doubt that but just its existence alone will be enough to put me on the map. Studying the location, its properties, if it is actually on Earth.”

“It’s not.”

“No?”

“No. Close but different. Gravity is different, two moons, its rotation is… slow. I never saw the sun while I was there.”

“Well, that’s even more fascinating. If what you say is true, it will be groundbreaking. And if that exists, then surely there are others. It could be the start to human expansion throughout the universe.”

He smiles slightly as she rambles and she feels a blush form on her face.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to talk so much but I find some things so fascinating and I go off on tangents.”

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to be disappointed.”

“I doubt that. Well, I’ll be disappointed if Fitz manages to get there first.”

“Well, without the rock, he won’t.” Grant shrugs. “It’s a key piece to the whole thing.”

“How so?”

“You’ve seen what it does?”

“Turning to liquid?”

“Yeah. Now imagine several of those, making a large enough puddle to stand in.”

“That’s the access point.”

“Yeah, in a controlled setting. Your research isn’t wrong, just old.” Grant adjusts his posture and leans back into the mattress on his hands. “What do you know about its history?”

“A lot of its shrouded in mystery. But the legend is a group of civilians found their way there. Allegedly, there were already people living there, in a thriving society. Over time, the entrance was lost, and it was never heard of again.”

“Basically. There are a lot of theories about how it started but essentially, there was a group who located it and made a life there. They could control their own society and as far as anyone knows, they didn’t return and lived out their days there. But the society was for elites. They were considered royalty. They brought their riches from this world to there, so they couldn’t be lost to others. It was a secret society to start with but over time, it faded. The rock, the monolith they call it, it moved to multiple locations and was lost. But pieces of it remained and a select few are said to still be in control of the pieces today.”

“And all the pieces are needed to make a large enough portal.”

“Exactly. So if it is Fitz looking for a way to find Maveth, he’s going to need our piece.”

“Do you know where the others are?”

“Yes. I have a contact a few towns over. He can help transport us there.”

“Thank you.” Jemma says softly. She stands from the bed and goes to her bag in the corner of the room.

“I don’t like this Jem.” Lance mutters, leaning down next to her. “I think he’s hiding something. We need to be careful.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?”

“Famous last words.”


End file.
